


The Piano Tuner

by NoeticEdda



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Food & Drink, Humor, Innuendo, Mention of smoking pot, Miscommunication, Music, No Pregnancy, Piano, Piano Tuning, Slight fandom stuff/humor, Smut, Summer, Vaginal Sex, background stormpilot, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoeticEdda/pseuds/NoeticEdda
Summary: Rey has a keen eye for a bargain, so she nabs a cheap piano even though she doesn't know how to play. (Yet.)When the piano tuner shows up, oops he's hot.(based on the merest suggestion of a piano tuner AU because Lilander posted some very interesting-sounding specialty tools with names that were too juicy to resist.)
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 48
Kudos: 190





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilander/gifts).



> Thanks to [Stef, aka no_big_deal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal/pseuds/no_big_deal), for the generous beta and friendly ear. Go read everything she writes, you'll love it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey finds a cheap piano and needs to get it tuned. Oh no, the tuner is hot!!

———

The strings

———

It was only $200. Rey had done a quick internet search and knew it was a bargain. Who cares if she doesn’t play? She’ll learn. The only catch: move it yourself. She was happy to part with $200 for an upright piano, but she wasn’t about to spend three times that much just to have it moved a couple blocks away. That’s where Finn and Poe came in handy. 

“Thanks mates, you want the usual?”

After a quick call to the pizzeria and a stop at the bodega for some Kyberstone Lites, she and the boys were happily chowing down on thin crust pie with cherry peppers and olives, clinking cans and catching up on The Mandalorian.

“Oh bollocks, Luke, _again_??” Rey groaned as the credits rolled. “Small galaxy, I guess.”

“At least he wore Gucci, like in Return of the Jedi. Love that for him,” Poe winked.

“Yeah,” Finn chimed in, “if I’m gonna watch pure fanbro wank material, I want designer boots on that snack.”

“It ain’t so bad, y’know,” Poe said. “Like, this sorta bolsters the whole ‘fall from great heights’-narrative that our Lord and Savior Rian Johnson wrote. I kinda liked it.”

“To each their own,” Rey shrugged. 

Finn hopped up from the sofa and plunked out a couple of notes on the upright piano, standing in all its dilapidated glory next to the front window.

Poe put his hands on his ears. “Stop, stop, for the love of god stop!!”

“Rey, what are you gonna do with this thing?” Finn asked. “Youtube can only take you so far. You need a teacher.”

“And a tuner,” Poe added.

“You mean you don’t like the honky-tonk sound?” she replied, smiling through a mouthful of crust.

“No,” they said, in unison.

Rey swallowed her too-large bite and chuckled. “I’m a quick study, how hard can it be? And I’ll call a piano tuner, you’ll see. It’ll sound lovely in no time at all!”

———

The frame

———

He was early. 8:45 AM on a Saturday. Rey was only just out of the shower, still in her towel, and found herself feeling put out that he was fifteen minutes early on a Saturday morning, even though it was better than being late. But there it was, big black pickup truck backing into the empty half of the driveway before she’d even gotten dressed.

 _Ugh_. Bit presumptuous of him when the curb was wide open.

She stepped away from the curtain before he finished parking, and rushed back to the bedroom of her bungalow to hang up her towel and throw on whatever clothes were nearest— the room was a mess, since she’d been swamped grading finals all week. Cutoffs and a daisy print t-shirt would do fine. They’d have to; they were the only clean things left in the dresser, next to a laundry hamper higher than Cheech and Chong. She’d get to it soon, now that school was out for the summer. _Finally_.

Two knocks.

“Be right there!” she shouted, zipping up her shorts and running toward the front room, hastily grabbing the Chinese takeout containers off the coffee table from last night. Even if it was only a little old man coming to tune the piano, she didn’t want to look like a slob. 

Not even ten seconds had passed before she heard two more knocks.

“I’m _coming_!!” Ten seconds? Some people have no patience.

She collected the last of the beer bottles, chucked them into the recycle bin, and stomped up to open the door.

Two more knocks before she could even unlock it. _Wow_.

The door swung open. 

_Oh_.

She was eye level with a pair of tits, men’s tits—big, built ones straining against a black t-shirt on a very wide, very tall frame, and when she looked up at the owner of said tits, she may have had a mild heart attack. 

_Oh no. He’s buff and hot._

Definitely not an old man. He was young, probably a few years older than her, with creamy, birthmarked skin and jet-black waves that hung down over his ears, holding an oversized toolbox. His eyebrows were raised in a look of surprise, like a deer in headlights. A long moment passed in silence, as her wet hair dripped down her t-shirt and his eyes briefly followed the water’s path.

Then he swallowed, righting his expression. 

“Are you Rey?”

Rey had been cross about something a few seconds ago, but she forgot whatever it was.

“MmYes—”

“Ben Solo. Sorry I’m a little early.”

“Not a problem at all. Come right in.”

———

The case

———

“You paid $200 for this??” She hadn’t even closed the door yet.

“I looked it up on the internet, pianos are thousands of dollars, I just thought—”

“No, no. This is—it’s . . . A treasure. My god.” He set the toolbox down next to the instrument and ran a large, veined hand across its lid, muttering _fuck_ under his breath. “Do you realize what this is?”

Rey had to snap herself out of thinking about veins. “ . . . Errr, a piano?”

“This is not just a piano. This is a pre-1900 custom Bluthner upright. This is like . . . where did you find this?”

“There was a yard sale. Down on Maplewood. I—a what-ner? So it _was_ a good deal! The wood is in poor shape, and it sounds terrible . . . My friends play a little. They teased me for scavenging such a fixer-upper, but that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

He cocked an eyebrow, played a few quiet chords and grimaced. “Your friends were right, this is gonna need a lot of work.”

Alarm bells rang in Rey’s head. “Like . . . how much work are we talking? Your website said one-fifty for new customers, I hadn’t exactly planned on—”

“One-fifty for the first visit. I’ll get started today and then we’ll let it settle some more, create a schedule—”

“Let it settle? Schedule? I thought piano tuning was a one-time thing.”

“No. The longer a piano has been neglected, the longer it takes to get it back in good condition. And this isn’t just a tuning job, which is fine, you didn’t know that when you booked an appointment online. But this needs a full restoration. I have to replace keytops—see these loose ones?—do a lot of work on the action, maybe even get your soundboard back in shape, re-string, and re-finish of course,” he pressed his foot down gently on each of the three pedals, “plus, your sustain pedal needs some rehab . . . and that’s all before tuning.”

“I don’t even know half the words you just used, I’m on a teacher’s salary, really I didn’t—”

“Eighty bucks after today. That’s the promo price for a first-time touch-up, but I’ll keep you at that rate for each visit. It would be my pleasure, just to get a chance to work on your instrument.” Rey had a fleeting, horny thought about the innuendo, and felt her cheeks go pink. Ben turned away quickly, tapping out a couple more notes on the lower keys. “You’re gonna make a lot of money, I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

“Oh I hadn’t planned on selling it— wait, how much is this thing worth?” 

“Restored? Twenty grand, easy.”

“Fucking hell!” she cursed, and he flashed a dimpled smile, looking amused.

Twenty . . . _twenty thousand dollars_? She’d merely thought it would be a laugh, something fun to do over summer; learn the piano. Growing up, Rey hadn’t had the opportunity for things like music lessons, and now that she had a good job at the high school, she could afford to treat herself. Try something new. But twenty thousand dollars would pay off her student loans with room to buy a whole other piano. Something normal, not like this classic car of a thing that Ben Solo seemed so interested in.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

———

The keys

———

Three hours later, Rey emerged from the den and peeked in on Ben’s progress under the guise of watering her houseplants. She’d offered him something to eat, which he politely refused, but he did drink half a pot of coffee she’d brewed. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a sandwich or something? I’ve got some leftover rotisserie chicken and good bread . . .” The front panels of the piano had been set aside, revealing all the strings and guts of the instrument, and the rug on the living room floor was littered with interesting-looking tools, things Rey had never seen before. Must be specialty items. Ben’s big body was crouched underneath the keyboard, elbow propped up on a cushion he’d brought with him. He was tweaking something at a very odd angle that pulled his t-shirt up, revealing a milk-fed but solid abdomen and a light trail of hair that led tantalizingly down to the waist of his jeans. 

“Oh uh, thank you, no. I’m— _ow, fuck_ —I’m just trying to get this—damn— _there_ it is, _come on baby_ ,” he said, and Rey didn’t think of anything but pianos, at all.

“N—need a hand? You look a bit . . . big under there.” 

She stepped up to the piano, and caught him giving her legs a look. So she stepped even closer.

“Auhh, no, well . . . sure, if you don’t mind handing me that McLube?”

“You’re joking.”

“Afraid not.”

“Hmm, I’m not seeing anything that says McLube . . .” 

“What about any center pin lubricant? It, uhh, it might say ‘Captain Slick’s’ on the can.”

“Captain what??”

“My buddy owns a supply business. Gwen’s a little eccentric.”

Rey glanced around and sure enough, a silver bottle with a wildly inappropriate brand name was lying next to his big toolbox. “This one, ‘Captain Slick’s Magic Hammer Sauce?’”

“That’s the one.” His ears turned pink as she crawled under the keys and handed it to him, and his voice went a bit quieter as he said, “Sorry, you didn’t need to get down under here with me, you could’ve tossed it—”

“I’m a chemistry teacher. I don’t ‘toss’ flammables if I can help it.” That elicited a smile.

“Chemistry, huh? Where do you teach?”

“At the high school. Been there three years now, and the only visits from the fire department have been my annual attempts to scare the shit out of my students with a safety talk.”

He chuffed, squinting at the whatever-it-was he was adjusting. “Can’t say I’ve had any run-ins with the fire department in this line of work. But you’re right, the pin lube is flammable.”

Willing herself not to get distracted anymore by the word _lube_ , Rey kept the smalltalk flowing. “But you must meet lots of interesting people visiting their houses?”

“Interesting? Yeah I guess so. I met my ex-girlfriend that way, and then wound up at her new boyfriend’s place because his assistant had unknowingly booked me for the tuning appointment, so . . . mixed results.” 

“Ah. I see.” Rey’s wheels were turning. “Well, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone else on a tuning job!”

He looked at her, eyes darting around her face, then turned back to his task with flushed cheeks. “I wouldn’t rule it out.” Rey’s heart skipped.

Then her cell rang, and she realized she’d completely forgotten her lunch date with Finn. 

“Ooh the reservation at Maz’s, I’m late—” Rey started scrambling up to answer it, but in the process, she knocked her head against the swirled leg of the piano and promptly landed back down on her bum underneath the keys. 

“ _Ugh, bloody_ —!”

“Shit! Are you okay?” He dropped his tools and put a startlingly warm hand on her shoulder, leaving it there for a moment, then jerking it away. Suddenly the room felt awfully warm, too. “This is my fault—”

“No, no, it’s not, I’m f— _oof_.” She had squeezed her eyelids shut from the blow. But when she opened them, his body was much closer than she’d realized, knee pressed against her thigh, gazing down at her with an expression of concern in his caramel eyes. Rey couldn’t help but feel there might be a spark between them, but she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.

Ben got up and extended one hand to Rey while holding the other right above her head. “Just go slow. Do you have frozen peas?” he asked, helping her up.

“Er, yeah actually, but—” He was already in the kitchen before she could insist that she was fine. Parking in her driveway, rummaging through her freezer . . . he had made himself quite at home since showing up fifteen minutes early. 

When he emerged from the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas, he had an odd look on his face. Was it disappointment? Rey couldn’t quite tell.

“I’ll clean up for today. I need to take the action—uhh, the insides—home to my workshop, plus some other things. But I’ll be out of your hair in ten minutes.” 

“Thanks, it’s all right, take all the time you need. I was already late, I’ll give him a call . . .” she said, holding the peas to her head.

Ben packed up in no time, efficient and tidy, and as Rey was seeing him out, she could have sworn he looked peeved about something. 

“So, I’ll see you next Saturday, then?” she asked with a hopeful smile. “Nine still works for you?” 

“Uh yeah. Nine. See you then.” And he was out the door.

Rey went to return the peas to the freezer and call Finn back to tell him she’d be late. Slightly irritated by the way Ben Solo had left so abruptly, she went a little overboard in shutting the freezer, knocking a couple of photos to the floor. She kept so many lists and pictures, she was always running out of magnets and had a habit of stacking too many at once. Picking up the photos of her and Finn at The Cantina, she smiled fondly at the one where he was squeezing her from the side, planting a big, dramatic kiss on her cheek for her twenty-sixth. She set the photos down on the counter and rushed out of the house to get to their lunch date. Didn’t want to make Finn and Poe late for their couples’ massage.

———

The soundboard

———

A few Saturdays came and went, and Ben had mentioned that he was ahead of schedule, so he only needed a couple more visits to get the piano rehabilitated. His visits were full-day affairs, owing to there being so much work necessary to restore the piano. He had been rather curt with her ever since the first week, limiting eye contact, giving one-word answers when she tried to chat to him, and Rey had resigned herself to the idea that maybe the spark she felt when they first met had been just that— a mere spark, nothing more. 

Ben arrived at nine on the dot, Fourth of July. Rey had planned to meet the other science teachers at school to watch the fireworks show once it got dark, but that wouldn’t be until around 9 PM during this time of year. So, she retreated to her den and let him work, only coming out a couple of times to make sure he had a fresh pot of coffee halfway through the day, offering food even though she knew he’d refuse. She asked him what his plans for the holiday were, and he answered with a typically evasive _uh, nothing really_. He was completely engrossed in his work. 

By late afternoon, she called out to him that she’d be back in an hour after she went for a run. He mumbled some kind of acknowledgement without looking back in her direction. Once she got home around five o’clock, he was still at it, so she hopped into a shower, as he seemed oblivious to the fact that she’d returned. _So intense._

Stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and fingering through her wet hair, she heard the loveliest sound—piano music. Something so sweet she couldn’t help but inch toward the living room to listen, not wanting Ben to stop playing on account of her. He was sitting there at her piano, with all his tools and equipment packed up, just playing like no one was listening. She stood in the hallway for a long while, admiring the music— _so romantic_ —until his song ended and she let out a sigh. With a start, he turned around and his eyes went wide as saucers, adam’s apple bobbing with a large swallow.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she fumbled with the top of her towel to make sure it was pulled tight enough. “I just got home from my run while you were working and I heard the loveliest music when I stepped out of the shower . . .”

“Uhm. I, ah, uh . . .” he stammered incoherently, eyes traveling down, then back up, but quickly locking with hers as he stood from the bench.

“What was it?” She wanted to know.

“What?” A quizzical look flashed across his face.

“The song you were playing, what was it?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s called ‘Till There Was You’, it’s an old . . .” Without realizing it, Rey had walked halfway across the room, meeting Ben in the middle. Now they were close enough that she could almost feel his body heat, right as she was beginning to shiver from the wet hair hanging around her bare shoulders.

“It’s a beautiful song.” Her heartbeat accelerated; strong and quick. Ben leaned down toward her just slightly, and she felt his breath along her forehead as she looked up into heavy-lidded eyes.

“You are . . .” His voice was so quiet. 

The sound of an early firework cracked through the neighborhood. 

Ben stepped backward with a sharp inhale, grabbed his toolbox and was walking out the door faster than Rey could follow. “Beautiful—it’s a beautiful piano. I’ll help you find a good buyer. See you next week, Rey. Should be the last time.”

Ben shut the door behind him.

“Next week, then.”

If Rey wasn’t mistaken, that man wanted to kiss her.

———

The attack

———

It was Sunday night without any lesson plans to prep and Rey was antsy. Finn and Poe usually did Sunday dinners with Poe’s grandfather, and Rey would sometimes join them, but tonight they were on a getaway for the long weekend to celebrate their recent engagement. So she found herself mindlessly flipping through Netflix until she realized a whole hour had gone by and all she’d done was read the show descriptions. 

She was distracted, of course. Thinking about last night, when she could’ve sworn she was about to be kissed by a large, if unpredictable, piano tuner with a filthy mouth— _oh, his mouth_. She could still hear that beautiful old song he played, on a loop inside her head.

Maybe he was just shy. Maybe he just needed a little push in the right direction.

Five hours and countless annoying YouTube ads later, Rey had found a solution. She brought out her own toolkit, selected the most delicate screwdriver in the set, and opened the piano the way she’d seen Ben do it over the last few weeks. After carefully setting aside the front panels, she got to work.

How could sabotage be wrong if it was your own piano?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [McLube](https://mclube.com) is real.  
> [Captain Slick's Magic Hammer Sauce](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLjkO2x1_60) is also real... sort of.  
> [Till There Was You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDxszC9Ym3Y) is an old song from [The Music Man.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLDsLeVxOaU)
> 
> \-----Thanks for reading!  
> Come say hi on twitter [@NoeticEdda](https://twitter.com/NoeticEdda)
> 
> If you like this, you might enjoy my other Modern AU, [The Lazy River](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219195/chapters/61127752)
> 
> I've also got a [canonverse post-TROS fix-it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822522/chapters/54543070) in progress, and a [Fantasy AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659306/chapters/56792071) that's loosely based on the wizard-apprentice dynamic from Uprooted. Check out my [author page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoeticEdda) and/or subscribe to my pseud if you'd like to read more! <3


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabotage? In this economy???
> 
> Yes, if you're Rey and you want that sweet, sweet piano tuner dique.

———

The sustain

———

“Huh. Coulda sworn I’d fixed the lyre last week.” Ben was lying on his stomach, looking over the apparatus that connected the rest of the instrument to the pedals, grumbling _what the fuck_ and _goddamnit_. 

It had taken him all day to get around to the pedals, and now Rey's plan would come to fruition: Ben would have to keep working on the piano. Of course, she wouldn’t do any permanent damage to such a valuable instrument. She had only tweaked it just a bit. Just enough to keep this big tree of a man coming to her house for another week . . . or so. Besides, what was an extra eighty dollars when she’d still be making twenty thousand in the end? 

They were in the middle of a heat wave, and Rey was sweating in her cutoffs and tank as she loitered in the living room, pretending to organize her mail. She watched him crane his head around in her direction. 

“I won’t charge you for any more visits. This should not have happened; I’d told you I would be done by now.” he said, turning back to the lyre. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all, I don’t mind!” she chirped. “If it takes another week or so, I’m prepared to pay you for your work, fair and square.” He looked over at her again, working his jaw as if he were sizing her up or making some kind of calculation. But she brushed it off, determined to chat him up today. “I er, I’ve been meaning to ask you, where did you learn to play? Originally?”

“My dad.”

What an engrossing answer, Rey could ponder it for weeks. Lot of mileage there.

“I see. What about your mum, does she play too?”

“Uh, a little.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. Rey ambled over casually as if she were about to walk into the kitchen, but instead, sat down cross-legged next to Ben on the floor and picked up the nearest of the odd tools he had scattered around. 

He turned onto his side, elbow on his cushion, but his hands were still working the whatever-it-was he said he was fixing. “What are you—”

“What’s this thing do?”

“The butt extractor clamp? It’s for when you need to replace the shank. The uh, long part of the hammer.”

“I see. Funny name.”

He gave her a bewildered look. “Oh.”

“What about this one?”

“Ahh, a bridle strap inserter.”

“Say that again, bridle what?”

“Bridle _strap inserter_.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm indeed.” The corner of his mouth ticked up just slightly, but he kept his eyes on his task. She scooted a couple of inches closer and picked up another tool.

“And this one?”

“The— that? It’s . . .” He was fighting a smile. “It’s a jack spring hole reamer.”

She burst out laughing. He chuckled. _Finally_.

“That sounds like something you’d find at a s—”

“—Sex shop?” 

“Oh, my! The way your mind works, Ben!”

He dropped his tool and pointed at her, stifling his own laughter. “Hey, this was all you, sweetheart, don’t peg it on me.”

She howled then, tossing her head back and slapping her knee in a great guffaw. Except it was _his_ skin that touched her bent thigh; she had grabbed his outstretched hand without thinking and brought it down where she would’ve dropped her own palm. 

Ben’s eyes went to where she’d clamped his hand onto her leg, and his laughter morphed into a couple of clipped, uneven breaths. Rey felt her neck and cheeks bloom bright red. Maybe, just maybe . . .

He yanked his hand away, coughing weirdly and peering back inside the piano. Then he wiped the sweat from his brow and checked his watch. “I’d better, uh, finish working on this lyre.”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll bring you a bottle of water, it’s getting a bit late for any more coffee.”

He seemed to hurry through his final few tasks that day, grunting here and there, cursing at various inanimate objects. When Rey walked him to the doorway as he was leaving, he gave her a polite goodbye, but averted her gaze as much as humanly possible. 

This was more of a challenge than she had thought.

Good thing she’d nicked his ‘rail bushing easer’, whatever that meant. And she had assigned herself homework, which she got to work on straight away after he’d left. First order of business was to google “how to de-tune a piano.”

———

The decay

———

By Wednesday afternoon, Rey had taught herself various tricks to employ, should she need to extend the piano restoration schedule just a bit further. 

That evening, Poe and Finn came over for her summer specialty: panzanella with nectarine, tomato, basil and fresh corn, served with grilled lemon shrimp. Watching all those Barefoot Contessa episodes during college had paid off in spades, even if she had been stoned half the time. 

The boys told her about their weekend getaway, a jaunt to Seattle where they’d enjoyed gorgeous weather . . . from the balcony of their posh hotel suite. They were both glowing, so in love, and Rey couldn’t be happier that her two best mates were finally getting married. 

They snacked on expensive buffalo mozzarella that Poe had procured along with prosciutto-wrapped cantaloupe, enjoying the mild summer evening and fuzzy sunlight in the garden while Rey grilled the shrimp on skewers. After they’d plowed through the whole meal, tipsy as they were, it was time for one more treat she had in store. They were celebrating, after all.

“Another round of rosé for the newly-engaged?” Rey stood from the patio table, smoothing out her ivory sundress.

“At least,” Finn said with a smile as Poe kissed him on the cheek.

“Good. Because I’ve got a surprise dessert.” The boys waggled their eyebrows at each other, then to her. She flashed a cheeky grin before heading back inside to grab another bottle of rosé and fetch her prettiest plates for the showstopper she’d prepared the day before. When it came to trifle, Rey became extra British and only Mary Berry’s Tipsy Trifle recipe would do. Sorry, Ina Garten.

From the kitchen, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Through the front window she spotted him—a large man, running shirtless in track shorts and a sport headband. _Ben?_

He slowed as he approached the driveway, and she opened the door before he could knock.

Ben gawked at her for a moment as he panted; perhaps because she was wearing a dress? She was usually in leggings or shorts and an oversized AC/DC t-shirt.

Rey preened. Internally. _This old thing?_

“Ah, hi Rey,” he said, huffing. “Think I left something here Saturday. Mind if I check real quick? I won’t be long.”

Oop. The rail bushing easer. He’d figured it out too quickly.

“Of course, come in—don’t you live on the other side of town?”

“Uh, yep . . . Marathon. Training.” 

“I’ll get you a glass of water.” She left him in the front room, head buzzing from seeing his sweat-beaded torso, from having watched his thighs in action. 

When she came back out with a glass of ice water, he was standing over the piano with his back to her, shaking his head. 

“Did you leave a tool? I haven’t seen anything around here . . .” Technically it was true since she’d hidden it in her bedroom. A little bit true.

He turned around so fast, almost knocking the water out of her hands. It sloshed a bit onto the rug, onto her arm and her dress. “Shit sorry! I’m sorry! Let me, uh . . .” 

It must have happened at the same time, both of them realizing that his hand was on her waist, fabric wet from the spill. It must have, because in the next instant, they were both leaning in, and in the moment after that, their lips met. And their bodies, and someone must have set the glass of water down because their hands were on each other, his squeezing her waist, her hips; hers lacing into his hair, setting the sweaty headband askew. _More than a spark._

Ben drew back first, just as the faint sound of laughter came from all the way around back in the garden through the screen door off the laundry room. Looking like a man coming out of a very pleasant anaesthesia, he grew more alert after he glanced over Rey’s shoulder and into the kitchen. Right where the trifle was sitting on the counter. And the rosé. 

When his eyes were back on her, he looked mortified. “You have company? I— this was all— I shouldn’t have, we—” He was already backing away.

“No, no, Ben, you’re welcome to stay, it’s—”

“S—sorry,” he said breathlessly, already at the front door. Right when she started after him, as he was pulling it closed, one of the boys came around from the back. Rey watched Ben’s eyes land on Finn just as he entered the front room, then shift back to her. He looked crestfallen. “Saturday. See you Saturday.” He shut the door and sprinted away while Rey stood there slack-jawed, whiplashed, worked up into a fever and then plunged into ice water as quickly as it had begun.

_It all happened so fast._ Finn came up and curled an arm around her, knowingly. “Got a story to tell, peanut?”

“I’m . . . not sure yet.” He pecked the top of her head, gave her a little jiggle-hug, and headed for the kitchen.

“You take your time. I’ll get the ros-Holy Shit, you made trifle?!”

———

The tuning pins

———

Waiting for Saturday dragged painfully. She wasn’t going to call Ben. It would be weird. It would also be weird when he showed up, as he had promised, on Saturday. Everything was weird, no matter how she looked at the situation, so she simply became one with the weird, and the weird became her.

There _was_ the minor task of de-tuning the piano, so that Ben still wouldn’t be able to call it quits on the project. She might be feeling a little guilty about her secret life as a piano saboteur, but she also might not. _Just one more time_. After that, clean living. No more subterfuge.

But when she reduced the equation to its simplest form, she always ended up with the same, elegant answer: Rey was going to get that big, puppy-eyed lunk of a man into her bed, come hell or high water.

———

The pressure bar

———

The monsoonal weather was expected to stick around for at least a week. Rain pelted every which way, in menacing sheets that lashed against the windows, causing a muddy mess in the garden. Saturday morning, it was gearing up to be the worst couple of days yet, with flash flood warnings and lightning, the whole nine yards.

Ben was late. He was never late; then again, they had never kissed passionately and then left everything absolutely awkward and unsettled before, so. She could cut him some slack. 

When his truck finally rolled into the driveway, Rey was ready. She’d explain to him that he may have gotten the wrong idea about her friend Finn, that she was hoping they could go out sometime, maybe he could stay for dinner that night. It was all a jumble, but she was ready. She also wore the same sundress as last Wednesday. Couldn’t hurt.

He knocked twice. She swung the door open. 

“I have to start by apologizing.” Oh no. “Wednesday was a mistake. I never should have shown up here like that, unannounced. I fucked up. Never meant for . . . _that_ to happen. At all.” 

_At all?_

“Ben, it’s raining. Come inside.” As if mother nature had some kind of plan, the rain went from a drizzle to a shower right as he crossed the threshold.

He set down his toolkit by the piano and began taking out the various implements he needed for tuning. Rey took her shot.

“I know I was a bit tipsy, but—”

“Say no more. It was just a big misunderstanding, let’s forget it ever happened.” There was a finality to what he said, and Rey didn't like it, as if she had no say in the matter. Maybe this was for the best after all. So, she said no more. For the time being, she’d have to think on it; search her feelings.

Once Ben played a few initial notes on the piano to get a gauge of where he’d left off, he exploded. “What the fuck?! This is—how the fuck did this get so out of whack?”

“Well, with the monsoonal system, the change in pressure and humidity . . . You told me yourself, it warps the wood and makes the tuning all, er, wonky. You’ve done a fine job, I’m sure it will only take a couple more visits—”

He cast her a sideways glance. “No, I’ll finish today. I said I would finish, so I will.”

“Fine. I’ll help you.” She sat down on the floor next to his toolbox and began arranging the equipment. “Ready when you are.”

———

The bridge

———

Rey helped him work all morning and afternoon, the tightening and tuning punctuated only by coffee refills. Then by evening, there was a maddening series of loud, repeated notes that Ben was adjusting. Rey felt like a sous-chef, or one of those operating room nurses who handed the doctor a scalpel when the doctor said, “scalpel.” It was probably much more fulfilling in the O.R., saving lives and what-not. Here, she was just processing the emotional decision-making of one big, surly piano tuner. 

At one point, Ben asked for the strip mute. When Rey cocked an eyebrow, he didn’t reciprocate the playful gesture. Truly dour. Today was going the exact opposite of how she’d hoped.

It was time to hunch underneath the keys again. Ben lay on his back atop the cushion, reaching up to do something or other, while Rey sat dutifully ready with all the butt-plug-reamer-slammer-tools or whatever other nonsense piano technicians had apparently named their equipment. A strange little niche world to look in on.

“If you don’t mind handing me the balance hole easer,” he said without even glancing at her. She leaned far underneath but couldn’t reach him at his funny angle without lying down next to him, so she got down on her side and scooted in, passing him the tool. He looked at her then, when she had gotten so close, eyes darting across her face.

When he turned his attention back to his task, she stayed there. Just watching his triceps strain underneath the cotton fabric as he twisted and tightened and jiggled thingamajiggies and whosit-whatsits. His t-shirt smelled like the rain hammering down outside, intermingled with the salt of his skin and that warm, unnameable scent of man. Rey breathed in deep. Couldn’t help herself.

He was such an idiot.

“Ben, listen to me,” she reached a hand up to his brow, brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes as he was finishing some process. 

“I—what are you—Rey, this . . .” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, and he briefly melted into her palm before turning onto his side to face her. “This process is”—his eyes wandered to her lips and the low hush of his voice thinned to a whisper—“delicate.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said softly, leaning in to nuzzle at his collarbone. “I promise.” He trembled at her touch and tilted his head down to hers, ghosting his lips along her hairline. 

“We shouldn’t—” Now his hand was on her shoulder, betraying his attempt at restraint.

“We should.” She nudged her knee between his, locking it in with his legs and using the leverage to bring their bodies flush against each other.

A low noise came from his throat until she cut it off by kissing him. Then it returned, louder and shorter each time they came up for air; adjusting, turning, tightening. The moans Rey let out got breathier, as they moved against each other and she could feel his erection through his jeans, feel herself getting wetter with each gyration of their bodies until Ben took her utterly by surprise. He pushed her back onto the cushion, braced an arm around her and hoisted himself over her—only to ram the back of his head against the underside of the keybed, cursing. 

Rey stifled a chuckle. “I’ll get the peas.”

“No. No, this— _fuck_. I’ll go. I’m sorry—” _Sorry?_ He was halfway up and into the kitchen still muttering to himself, and Rey had just about _had it up to here_ when Ben returned without the peas, instead with a very odd look on his face. _Not again._

Rey wrinkled her brow in confusion as he climbed back under the keys, hovering over her on all fours, careful to avoid knocking his head for a second time. 

“What about the peas?” she asked.

“What peas?” He kissed her hard. Rey choked off a whine. She pulled him against her and before long she was peeling off his shirt, shimmying out from under the keyboard danger zone with him and onto the middle of the rug.

“So, your friends are getting married?” he asked breathlessly, “the handsome ones?”

“Finn, Poe, my best mates, why?”

“Engagement announcement. On your freezer. And all this time I thought—”

“—That Finn was my boyfriend? I tried to tell you Wednesday, you were impossible.”

“I came Wednesday to ask you. The missing tool was an excuse.” He squinted a bit as he looked down at her, brushing a thumb across her cheek, “I know you’ve been messing with the repairs, Rey.”

_Oh dear._

“And I kept thinking, here’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, who flirts with me, who keeps undermining my restoration job, maybe out of curiosity—but always just enough to put me behind schedule. And even with the picture of the guy kissing you on your freezer, I thought . . . maybe he’s just a friend. Maybe she feels something for me, too. And when you kissed me—”

"You mean when _you_ kissed _me_?"

"When _we kissed_ , I knew there was something between us. Then I saw—" 

“—Then you saw Finn in person Wednesday.”

“Yeah . . . good thing I made assumptions.” 

“Good thing? I’d say it was a missed oppor— _oh!”_ He was scooping her up and carrying her down the hallway before she could finish.

“Let’s make up for lost time.”

“Ben, you don’t even know where my bedroom is, you brute,” she said, laughing.

“I’ll find it.”

———

The action

———

Rey’s bedroom was, mercifully, tidy. No Cheech & Chong-height hamper. All her books were on the shelf for once, instead of strewn about the empty half of her bed. Which was covered in freshly laundered linens. And about to be occupied.

The rain was coming down in torrents, and the setting sun had long been obscured by storm clouds. It was a dark room save for the yellow glow of her Erlenmeyer flask nightlight.

She and Ben had stumbled back onto the bed once he released her from his big arms, kissing her breathless. _So intense._ Rey pawed at his tits, ran her fingers up through his hair. He gently pulled down the straps of her ivory sundress, then ran a tentative palm under the skirt, up her thigh—and when he discovered she had forgone panties, he positively whimpered. 

“Rey, you sweet, dirty girl, _fuck_ . . .” She was at the zipper of his jeans in no time, nudging them off his hips. When she yanked down his briefs, her eyes widened at his size; she had expected nothing less, but it still made her gulp. “You can take it, baby,” he said with a devilish sideways smile.

She pulled his head backward by his hair, exposing his neck to her teeth, and grazed them along his adam’s apple. “You know I can take whatever I want.”

“Ffffff—”

“Ben. When did you know?”

“Mmm, know what, sweetheart . . .” She released her grip on him and his mouth wandered down to her breasts.

“That you wanted . . . _this?_ ”—He flicked a tongue against her nipple—“Oh _, god_ —”

“When you first opened the door,” Ben said, quietly.

“You idiot.” She was smiling as he leaned back up to kiss her again.

“What about you, when—” He hissed when she nipped at his lower lip.

“When you ran your hand across the piano and said “fuck” under your breath.” She shivered when his fingers found their way to her cunt.

“ _Fuck_ —”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Uhh Rey, baby I don’t have a . . .”

“There, inside—” She pointed to the nightstand.

He reached into the drawer without looking away from her, fumbling around for a condom. But his eyebrows wrinkled, and he instead produced a long implement that looked like a torture device.

“My rail bushing easer? You _did_ steal it!”

“Hehe . . . sorry?”

“Well you’re a terrible thief. This is only for grand pianos.”

“ _Condom_.” He nodded vigorously then, leaning over to the nightstand and discarding the tool. Rey heard the crinkle of a wrapper and then before she knew it, he was back, bunching her dress up as he eased the tip of his cock inside her.

“Fuck, so good, you feel—” he pushed until he was in to the hilt. They both moaned.

She was so full, she felt as if she drew too great a breath, she might come just from the pressure.

“—feel like fucking heaven, sweetheart,” he murmured as he drew back slowly, pressing in harder the second time, groaning. Rey arched up to meet him, clutching him by the shoulders with a whine.

Then his mouth was under her ear, breath hot on her neck as he hunched over, fucking her faster, spurred on by her wordless encouragement. “Come on baby, that’s it, _fuck_ , so sensitive.” Rey was on the edge, already buzzing with sensation but about to teeter overboard from his voice, thick and velvety, cooing filthy endearments. _Thank fuck he’s a talker._

She brought a knee up to her chest, trying to find that angle that hit _just right_ , when he grabbed her leg and slung her ankle over his shoulder. “ _Yes_ , yes I like that, harder—”

“ _God_ Rey, I’m gonna come, please come for me, come on my—come on m— _baby_ —” he brought his thumb to her clit, slippery and frantic.

“ _Ben!_ ” Rey choked back a gasp. The pressure mounted inside; warm, chaotic, searing with the rush of inevitability. She threw her head back and shut her eyes as he brought her to the brink.

“Sweetheart . . . _Oh_ fuck, ahh _fuck_ I’m—” There were no more words after that, only his growls and her quick breathy cries until she hit her climax, hard, exhaling in long moans as it rolled all the way through her. He kept thrusting as long as he could before coming with a huff, holding his breath then puffing out pent up air with every shot of release. 

She used her longest fingers to trace the vein down his reddened neck, and he shuddered so violently that Rey felt it everywhere, even where he was still deep inside her.

They lay there quietly for a little while catching their breath, until Rey tickled his abs and said, “So, _now_ will you eat something?” He smiled at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’ve been offering you food for weeks, you can’t be this big without eating. We can order a takeaway, or I’ve got a few frozen things we could heat up . . .”

“Peas sound good.” 

———

The finish

———

Snow fell softly, and Han was in the kitchen with Rey, tutoring her on how to prepare his famous ribollita. Leia and Ben were busy hanging the last of the lights in the living room, having finished the outside of the house earlier in the day. It was almost dark at five, the end of the year fast approaching and the winter holidays upon them. Soon, Finn and Poe would arrive for dinner, and afterward they’d start a traditional, good old-fashioned Star Wars marathon, which Rey expected to cause some amount of controversy considering that Ben was a staunch release-order purist. The boys, on the other hand, were hardcore prequels stans and would have big opinions about watching in chronological order. As for Leia and Han, they couldn’t give a rat’s ass.

This was only Rey’s second time hosting Ben’s parents since he moved in with her after Thanksgiving. It had all been rather quick, but theirs was a whirlwind romance with an instant attraction, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. They were head over heels. On the fast track.

“Listen up kid, here’s the important part,” Han said, holding a parmesan rind in the air as Kay Starr’s _The Man With The Bag_ wafted in from the living room. “This has to simmer for at least an hour. Can’t get that kind of flavor any other way.”

“I think I saw that trick on an episode of Ina Garten,” she said, sipping syrah. “Or was it Nigella Lawson? I dunno, my uni days are all a bit of a blur,” she chuckled.

“Heh. You shoulda seen me in _my_ college days, I bet me and the cats woulda put you amateurs to shame,” he winked as he dropped the rind into the soup. 

Finding out Han Solo was _the actual_ Han Solo, famous seventies studio musician with a bit of a reputation for being a wild man, Rey had realized it made perfect sense; Ben was just as naturally gifted, but he had a more serious temperament, like his mother, and an obsession with how things worked. His piano tuning gig supported his pursuits as a composer, mainly working on indie video game soundtracks, and Rey was the lucky beneficiary of hearing him work out new ideas regularly. That, of course, had been from listening to Ben’s own piano at his shoebox-sized place, since the Bluthner sold almost immediately after Ben had finished restoring it. He’d helped her find a high-end auction house and she’d netted twenty-five grand from an anonymous buyer. But now that they were without a piano at Rey’s house, and with Ben’s own upright in storage during the moving process, they were pianoless for the holidays. Han had brought a keyboard, but it was a shame not to have the Real Maclunkey for carols. 

When the two of them joined Ben and Leia in the living room, the lights took Rey’s breath away. 

“Oh you’ve made it so pretty, I love it!”

“We love you, dear,” Leia gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Han, come with me, I need your help with the fruitcake.”

“What? No you don’t, you”—she shot him a look—“uh, yes ma'am.”

Ben and Rey were left alone in the living room, and he pulled her by the hand into the hallway. 

“Hey look, mistletoe!”

“Ben, this is what, the fifth time today? You can kiss me anyti—” she was interrupted by strong arms wrapping behind her back, warm, plush lips pressing against hers, the smell of Ben’s spice soap on his skin. 

“It’s more festive this way,” he murmured below her ear, nipping at one of the tiny diamond studs he’d given her.

Just as Rey was beginning to think that things were getting a little too steamy with Ben’s parents right around the corner, she noticed headlights coming up the street. It was a bit early for Finn and Poe to arrive, she thought. Then she realized it was a moving truck, and it parked right outside.

What was the moving company doing here on Christmas Eve-Eve? The rest of Ben’s things weren’t supposed to come until January 2nd.

She alerted him to it as he was busying himself with kissing her neck. “Ben, look.”

“Huh.” 

They watched through the window as two men got out of the cab and began unloading a piece of furniture under a waterproof tarp.

Rey opened the door, about to call out to them, when Han came rushing outside.

“Hey fellas, how ya doin, just inside here by the window.”

Leia and Ben followed them onto the porch.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked.

“Little surprise for you kids. Go on, go back inside. Your mother and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Ben gave Rey the _I don’t know, do you?_ look and she gave it right back, but they headed inside as they were instructed. 

The movers must have been extremely careful, because it took them quite a while to navigate the couple of steps up to the porch. It was snowing, after all, so they must need to be extra cautious. 

“Rey, I think that’s . . .”

Once inside, Ben’s parents followed the movers, tipped them, sent them on their way. Han removed the tarp, and there stood the Bluthner in all its beautifully restored glory.

“Dad! What—”

“You didn’t think your old man was gonna let you part with a piano like this, did you?” 

“We wanted you kids to have it. It’s what brought you together; it should stay with you,” Leia beamed.

“You were the buyers! At the auction?” Rey was stunned, delighted, grateful. 

“Kept it in storage, figured you two wouldn’t take long to, uh . . .” Han fought the widening of his crooked smile. 

“Really, this is too much,” Rey tried to object but they both shook their heads, not having any of it.

“Consider it a housewarming gift,” Leia said, hugging Ben and then Rey, her handmade jewelry jangling as she moved. “Now let’s get those garlic knots in the oven, come on Han. Rey’s friends will be here any minute.”

“Right away, your highness.”

Ben slipped an arm around Rey’s waist and guided her to the piano, pulling her next to him on the bench as he sat down to play ‘Till There Was You.’ Rey sighed, peeking back at Han and Leia watching them from the kitchen arm-in-arm, giving them a little smile before turning to rest her head on Ben’s shoulder as he played, surrounded by twinkling lights.

She knew they would find the perfect harmony together.

And they did. Happily ever after.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rey's panzanella](https://www.loveandlemons.com/panzanella-salad/)  
> [Mary Berry's Tipsy Trifle](https://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/mary_berrys_tipsy_trifle_21330) from BBC Food  
> [Han's Ribollita](https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/simple-ribollita) from bon appetit (with process vids!)  
> Kay Starr's [The Man With The Bag](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rH-cmEPKFSY)  
> Look at this [jack spring hole reamer](https://www.howardpianoindustries.com/jack-spring-hole-reamer/)!  
> Check out these [pretty antique pianos](http://www.besbrodepianos.co.uk/upart.htm) and this [gilded Bluthner](https://antiquepianoshop.com/product/custom-designed-bluthner-upright-piano/)!
> 
> \-----thanks for reading! come say hi on twitter [@NoeticEdda](https://twitter.com/NoeticEdda)
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated, here's my [author page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoeticEdda) if you'd like to read more! <3


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